


each night I ask the stars up above

by fangirl6202



Series: learn to take the good with the bad [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, First Time, Good Boyfriend Spot Conlon, Hispanic Spot Conlon, Italian Racetrack Higgins, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 11:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21243215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl6202/pseuds/fangirl6202
Summary: "I think your first time should be something special. That it should be with someone you trust. And Spot? I don't know what the future has in store for us, but I know I love you now. Even if we end up... hundreds of miles away from each other, hating each other's guts, I want to know that my first time was with the first love of my life. Ok?"With the way Race was looking at him, you'd have thought Spot strung the stars in the night sky. He had just proclaimed everything to the boy of his dreams...and yet... Spot was only able to focus on one thing Racetrack had said."You...you love me?"-----At 14, Spot Conlon never would have thought he'd fall in love with his teammate Jack "Cowboy" Kelly's younger brother, Racetrack, but life was full of surprises. Now 18, Spot couldn't imagine a life without Race





	each night I ask the stars up above

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been in the works since April, and I'm so happy to say I can finally post it. Its purely porn, don't get it wrong, but it's also more than that. It's two boys sharing a deeply personal experience with one another. It's two boys in love.
> 
> This is shameless, I know, but my dudes. Please don't let this flop. I've spent a little bit too much time and too much effort on this to be okay if it flops 😂😭

"Wait a second. Is it, uh, god what's his name? Brian? Bram? Bram! I get the feeling that it's Bram."

"Spot!" Race whined, looking up at his boyfriend; It was a bit of a challenge since his boyfriend was _spooning_ him, but the blonde managed just fine. "You know I's can't spoil the movie!"

Spot snorted, rolling his eyes as Race basically confirmed his suspicions

His boyfriend Racetrack was a gambler, everyone knew that; he regularly was getting in trouble with the school for setting up poker games wherever he could and it was how he won the money for his cigarettes.

Though he had the best poker face this side of the Hudson, Spot was more observant than he lead on. It had taken a while, but he had finally learned all of his boyfriend's tells: a quick upturn of his lip, the slightest drum of his right index finger, the dip in his voice.

Spot laughed at his boyfriend's antics and pressed a kiss to his head before returning his attention to the cheesy (albeit cute) movie playing on Race's TV.

The kiss brought a giggle, an actual _giggle, _out of the beautiful boy in his arms and Spot thought that he would never feel more content than he did right then.

It was Sunday and Sundays were his favorite: On Sunday, he spent the day with Race. That Sunday had been no exception. Instead of staying in the city, the two decided to hop into Spot's jeep and drive the hour (and half for traffic) to Cold Spring, listening to Race's music the whole way long.

Being able to just hold hands with the boy he had given his heart to, belting everything from Disney to Beyonce to Spot's norteñas was nice. It was a welcome distraction after weeks of non-stop school work and exams.

They had walked around the town for hours, which was an experience.

It was a more of a small town community, filled with older people, but no one heed any attention towards the two boys walking hand-in-hand; some even glanced at them and smiled brightly before going back to their day.

Spot's favorite part of the day though was Race's habit of stopping every so often for photos; photos of the landscape, the buildings, and of Spot himself. There was one he _genuinely_ liked of him in front of trees wrapped with fairy lights, smiling brightly at Race. There weren't many photos of him smiling that he liked, so he was surprised when Race swore up and down he was gonna print it out to go on his wall.

Ever the faithful Instagram boyfriend (a title he was quite proud of) he also took multiple photos of Race which he actually enjoyed. He wasn't as good with photos as Race was, but he was pretty damn impressed with himself.

The only scene _truly _worth watching was Race anyways.

They ate lunch in town before hitting the trails and exploring some more. After hours of walking and driving, the two managed to find a lookout and spent the last golden hour of the day sitting out of the back of the Jeep, nearly in the same position they were in now.

They had stayed for half an hour after the sun had gone down before Race tugged him forward, saying, "Come on! I wanna watch a movie with you at home!"

Not "at my house", but _home_. It was a tiny word, one that Race probably hadn't realized he used, but it meant the world to Spot. Growing up the way he did, Spot hadn't ever had a home; He hadn't been able to wipe the stupid grin off his face all the way back to Manhattan.

It was the best damn day Spot had had in a long time.

Now they laid on Race's bed, limbs tangled together as they watched _Love, Simon_ which wasn't as bad as Spot had thought it would be.

He wasn't much of a coming-of-age or romance fan, but Race had the ability to find movies the both of them would find entertaining. He _was_ enjoying the movie, really, but he found it difficult to focus on the plot at all when he could only focus on Race's laugh and beautiful eyes.

They were happy, _really_ happy, and Spot couldn't help but tilt his head downwards to press a lip to Race's soft lips. About to pull back, Race hummed and brought him in closer, deepening the kiss. Spot just smiled and wrapped his arms around the boy.

The two had been dating for five months now, and Spot wasn't yet tired of their slow, honeydewed kisses. He was sure he never would, not as long as Race let him.

As they laid there, side by side, kissing, Spot nearly laughed. If someone had told _him_, the _best_ quaterback in The World high school's _history_, last year that his nights would be spent kissing and cuddling Jack Kelly's kid brother, he'd have beat the shit out of them.

But now?

Now he _lived _for those nights.

Though he was _very _thoroughly enjoying the way Race's mouth moved against his own, Spot pulled back to pepper his boyfriend with kisses. He did that sometimes, when he was feeling more affectionate.

He pressed quick pecks to the corner of his mouth, his nose, his eyelids, each quick peck gaining a laugh from the beautiful boy beside him. Then he laid a kiss on the beauty mark just under Race's ear, bordering his neck, and unconsciously bite down.

Race's breath hitched, and Spot reeled back, eyes widening in distress. B_iting _had never happened. It was nothing more than muscle memory, used to kissing a person's body and biting or marking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

Before Spot could even finish apologizing, Race leaned forward and kissed him, harder than before. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to leave them breathless. The two broke off, panting lightly.

"I don't mind," He said, biting his bottom lip nervously. "C-Could you do that again?"

"What?"

Race looked at him again, a fine blush creeping up his neck. "Babe, could you...could you bite me again?"

It was rare to hear Race be anything less than confident. He was known for being a smart-talker, a charmer, and here he was, his voice an absolute wreck. It was only just a bit concerning. It was enough concern, however, to have Spot hesitate. He pulled back to make sure that Race _really was _ok with this and---

That's when Race pushed him over and climbed on top of him.

As his back hit the headboard, Spot let out a squeak that he would deny to the day he died. Eyes wide, he watched as Race swung his leg over him, essentially straddling him. The sheer _hotness _of the movement knocked the wind out of him.

"Is this ok?" Race asked, nervous despite his actions mere seconds before. Apparently Spot wasn't the only one in the pair to be shaky. They hadn't had sex, that much wasn't a secret. It was just something that neither boy suggested, hadn't gotten that far or had been at that level in their relationship, but that didn't mean they hadn't fooled around: Make-out sessions that got more heated the longer they went, shirtless kisses in the back of Spot's Jeep Wrangler after practice's let out.

It took him a moment to realize Race was still waiting for a response. "I-I'm surprised you have to ask," Spot stuttered out, gaining a laugh from his boyfriend. It was a miracle he was able to form any sort of coherent sentence what with Race's thighs pressing into him. Race seemed to notice the effect he had on Spot, and just laughed quietly.

"Just...tell me when you want me to stop, ok?"

He nodded, and Race's mouth was on his.

Spot moaned and unconsciously snaked his fingers into Race's curls. Now Race was raising himself off his lap, Spot leaning his head back until it banged on the headboard. When Race broke it off, Spot thought he was going to reprimend him, but he just grinned down at Spot.

He was _screwed_.

Instead of finding his way back to Spot's lips, Race decided to explore his body; lips trailing down from his chin to lightly biting down on the center of his adam's apple. Spot let out a moan and tightened his grip on Race's hair slightly, about to let go as to not hurt him, but Race just moaned.

"Fuck! That feels so good," Race panted out against Spot's neck. His lithe fingers trailed down his arms and then to his chest, hesitating slightly. "C-Can I take off your shirt?"

Without even responding, Spot lightly pushed his boyfriend, nearly _ripping_ his shirt in the process as he threw it somewhere past Race's head. Race made a movement for his own hoodie, a blue _Brooklyn_ one that he had stolen from Spot's closet that morning, but Spot's hand shot out to grab his wrist.

"Don't."

At Race's look of confusion, Spot felt a blush creep up his own neck and he fought it as hard as he could. "I...I _really _like how you look in my hoodies."

At the words, Race let out a small stutter and flushed red. He hadn't meant to sound as authoritative as he did, but if anything...it _spurred_ Race on. Spot decided to store that small piece of information in the back of his mind.

Nodding, Race leaned back in and continued the trail of kisses viciously, kissing hard enough to leave marks that he knew would disappear all too quickly, his fingers trailing down his arms and chest. Spot sputtered with every kiss, jumping anytime Race's fingers touched a sensitive spot.

"I forget how fucking hot you are," Race muttered, running his fingers over Spot's abdomen. Call him a narcissist, but he had worked hard for his body and he was damn proud of it. Apparently Race was too.

"Football has it's perks," he said with a smirk, his usual confidence coming back, and swiping his thumb over the tip of his hip bone. The motion had Spot squirming under Race and he had trouble remembering how to breathe properly. His breathing got even _more_ erratic as Race looked at him, a question on his lips: "You'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, right Spotty?"

No matter how much he denied it, Spot _loved it _when Race called him Spotty. He was the only one he allowed to call him that; not Jack, not Davey, not Katherine, not even _Medda. _No, it was for Race and for Race alone and the whine that came out of him was barely human. He _really _doubted there was anything Race could to do to make him uncomfortable and that's why he responded yes without any hesitation.

He didn't miss how Race's breathing quickened or how his eyes scanned Spot's chest up and down once more. It seemed as if he was seeing him, _truly seeing him_, for the first time.

"_Jesus Christ," _Race breathed out in... _admiration_, and Spot was glad there wasn't enough light in the room to showcase the blush on his cheeks at the words.

Instead, he cheekily replied, "I ain't him."

"Shut up, Conlon," Race muttered sharply before hooking his fingers in Spot's belt loops and pulling him down to have their lips crash together. Spot was too surprised and _massively_ turned on by the action to question it, just trusted that this was what Race wanted.

And if Race wanted to manhandle him, who was he to refuse?

Just when he thought he was going to have to pull back to breathe, Race backed away and began lightly biting the underside of his neck again.

"You're gonna be the d-death of me, Higgins," He managed to croak out as Race went lower and lower. It was rare that his childhood stutter came out, only when he was overwhelmed. Race always loved his stutter and he could hear the pleased noise he made in hearing it.

After what seemed like _minutes _of sweet torture, Spot threw his head back and cried out as his nipple became engulfed by a wet _heat._

_Holy fucking shit, _he thought, mind going a thousand miles an hour. _Holy shit holy shit holy shit--_

Something Spot had found out about himself in previous... "endeavours" was that he had a very reactive body and _extremely _sensitive nipples and Race was _fucking going for it. _At the sound, Race jerked back, concern contorting his gorgeous features. "Spot?! I'm sorry, I should'a asked before doi--"

"Race that was the hottest thing you've ever fucking done," he panted, spacing out a bit as he regained his breath. "Where....where'd you even learn that?"

Race chuckled a bit, looking away and focusing on the reflection of the still-on television in the mirror. "I's, uh, done some research."

It took Spot a moment to realize what he meant.

"Racetrack Higgins, are you trying to tell me you watched _porn_?"

Race's quiet look of shame was all the answer Spot needed. He cupped Race's face, tilting it to meet his eyes. "Hey. There is _nothing_ wrong with that, Race. You shouldn't be embarrassed about it."

"Even..." He watched as Race weighed his next words carefully, biting his lower lip. "Even if I think about you while watching?"

_Oh._

"E-Even then," Spot stuttered, pointedly ignoring the tightening in his jeans. _Damn it, you have to show up _now? "N-Nothing wrong with that."

Against his will, his mind conjured an image: _Race on his knees, legs spread as he took his length into his hands_. _His laptop was open a few feet away from him showing a man pounding into another, their grunts filling the room_. _Race began stroking himself, moans coming out of his slightly parted lips._

_"S-Spot," He moaned, _ _pace picking up as his hips bucked upward, fucking into his own hand. "Spot! God, I love you," he cried out._

_Suddenly, it was _both _of them laying down, Spot in between those glorious long legs. Race's fingers painfully gripped his hair, and he moaned as he swallowed Race's cock. The moan sent vibrations through Race's body, a cry coming out of the beautiful boy he called his own. I-love-you's tumbled from his lips, looking down to meet Spot's eyes. With a wink, he began bobbing up and down. Race dropped back onto the mattress, legs wrapping around his boyfriend's body. __"__Spot! Spot spot spot spot spot sp--"_

_"_Spot!"

He blinked, suddenly dragged out of his fantasy and into reality. The t.v. was still going, the credits now rolling, the lights were dimmer, and the room still smelled like Race's lavender scented candles that he had lit to cover up their smoking habits.

And Race was still straddling him.

His eyes widened as he realized that he was now fully hard in his jeans, shifting ever so slightly so that Race didn't catch on. But from the way Race was looking at him, he was catching on. "Spot...did that turn you on?"

"N-No"

Yes.

Race raised an eyebrow, making him look 10 times hotter which should have been illegal. "Spot, you only stutter when you's flustered. I think you're lying to me."

"Am not." _Am too._

"Huh," Race said, voice dropping slightly. "That's too bad." His fingers trailed down his chest to his abs and came to rest on the tip of his hip bone. Spot's mind was racing but he willed himself to keep his mind from drifting. "I was thinking... I's could maybe help. Race's face was red as a tomato, visible even in the dark. He seemed to realize his sentence didn't make much sense and quickly added: "With ... that."

Spot froze up.

In a moment, he was a young sophomore again with a red solo cup in his hand. The whole night had been upper classmen clapping the young football star on the back and handing him drink after drink. Whose party had that been? The Delancey's? He couldnt even remember. All he remembered was the world going blurry and a pretty cheerleader, a senior, leading him up to a bedroom. Nearly unconscious at that point, his back hit the bed and--

He didn't want to remember anything past that.

Spot closed his eyes and willed the memory to go away; he had lost his virginity in the worst of ways, but this was _Race. _Race who cried whenever he accidentally stepped on a ladybug, who danced to Kids Bop ironically, and would never hurt him.

Which is why Spot couldn't hurt him.

"Race, I'm sorry. I didn't m-mean to--"

Race must have sensed his oncoming panic because he quickly cupped Spot's face and cut off his sentence. "No! No, Spot you didn't do anything! I, uh... babe I think I'm ready."

He also mustve seen the look on Spot's face because he quickly added: "No Spot, I _know. _I _know _I'm ready for this.

"I grew up thinking sex would change how everyone saw me, that it would make me dirty or undesirable. But that's not true Spot. Sex isn't dirty, it's _beautiful. _Two people giving themselves to each other in the most intimate of ways? That's _beautiful._

"I was always told that virginity was something precious and something that needed to be cherished; well I think that's bullshit. Virginity is a social concept. _But, _I do think your first time should be something special. That it should be with someone you trust. And Spot? I don't know what the future has in store for us, but I know I love you _now. _Even if we end up... hundreds of miles away from each other, hating each other's guts, I want to know that my first time was with the first love of my life. Ok?"

With the way Race was looking at him, you'd have thought Spot strung the stars in the night sky. His eyes were so blue and so wide as they looked into Spot's, just a tinge of fear and excitement in them. He had just proclaimed _everything _to the boy of his dreams...and yet... Spot was only able to focus on one thing Racetrack had said.

"You...you _love _me?" He gasped, eyes wide. They had been together for 5 months, only 5, and he was scared. Terrified. He knew he loved Race, had known longer than he was willing to admit. But he was Race's first... _everything. _First kiss, first boyfriend, first.... _love_.

He searched his boyfriend's face for his tells, praying to any and deities who deemed him worthy of their time that he wasn't lying. He wouldn't know how to handle it if Race was lying.

There wasn't a tell. No raised eyebrow, no upturned lip, nothing. Race only laughed, his nervous smile widening as he looked down at the boy of his dreams. He was being _sincere. _And that somehow scared Spot even more.

"Well..._yeah__," _Race laughed before growing sweet again. "I do, Spot. I really do. Is that ok? I'm sorry if it's too soon, I know we've only been together five months but I uh, just thought um, that uh--"

It was as if Spot's hands were suddenly freed from invisible shackles because he surged forward, placing his hands on either side of his face and pressed his lips to Race's, hard. The two collided and their foreheads banged together, but neither noticed instead kissing each other as if their life depended on it.

In that moment, Spot knew; This intelligent, caring, stubborn, innocent, idiotic boy was going to be the death of him. He pulled back, closing his eyes and just inhaling all that was _Race. _His Old Spice deodorant, his cologne, the faint smell of lavender that clung to him from constantly having his candles lit. He lightly pressed a peck to Race's lips and didn't bother moving them as he murmured in a low voice.

"Antonio Higgins, _estoy tan enamorado de ti_, you'll never know."

The words were simple, but true, and the gasp that Race let out showed Spot that his boyfriend knew he was dead serious. When he opened his eyes, he saw Race's eyes staring back at him with surprise:

"You never call me Antonio," he said, lips brushing against Spot's, astonishment in his voice. "You're...you're being serious."

"I am."

Race's name, his _birth_ name was Antonio. To everyone at school, and even on legal documents, it was Anthony. Before "Racetrack" was coined, it was Tony or Anthony. But never Antonio.

Spot was the only one to know it.

The second the words were out of Spot's mouth, the TV went dark and quiet, plunging the two boys into silence in a room only illuminated by the candles surrounding them. The candlelight graced Race's features with a heavenly light and Spot had never felt more in love. He didn't think it was possible, but Race's eyes shone brighter in the candle light, gleaming with what might have been tears. He tenderly grabbed one of Spot's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

"_Tu sei l'unico per me_, Sean. I mean it."

Spot's mind instantly translated the words without meaning to: You. Only. For me.

_You're the only one for me._

Spot laughed, trying to keep the tears in his own eyes from spilling.

Sean.

Race had called him Sean.

That was the moment it clicked for him. He had never planned to be someone's first, he didn't want to be the source of someone's heartbreak like that. Not unless he truly loved them. And he did. He loved Race. He _trusted _him. Trusted him enough to use his name, even trusted him with his life. If Race really wanted this, wanted _him, _he would do this for him.

"Race, this isn't something you can half-ass. Sex _does _change you. Or...it changed me...you have to be 100% certain. Please. I don't want to do this if y-you're gonna hate me after or d--"

"I want to do this," he interrupted, slowly moving off of Spot's lap, relishing in the gasp that escaped Spot's mouth when his leg brushed the tent in his jeans. He wrapped an arm around Spot's neck and laid the both of them down, movements slow and calculated. He rolled Spot on top of him, tangling his fingers into Spot's dark hair. "I want _you.__"_

This was happening. They were actually going to do this. They were going to have sex. It was the first time the idea truly set in, and all Spot could do?

He began laughing.

It began as a small chuckle but within seconds, he was damn near hysterical , wrapping his arms around Race as he buried his laughter into his shoulder.

"Spot?! Jesus Christ, are you ok?"

"Race," he laughed out, regaining his breath. "I am _more _than ok. _I _am in my beautiful boyfriend's bed, about to let him fuck me into this mattress if he wants to." Race's blush was so prominent, it made Spot laugh again. "Trust me, Race, I am so much more than ok."

"I, uh, didn't expect you to, um. Well, bottom."

"I don't," Spot responded honestly. Except for the dildo hidden under his bed at home and Race in his dreams, he had never given anyone the chance. "But I'd be lying if I said the thought of you fucking me isn't the hottest thing ever."

Race went scarlet and Spot remembered no one had ever talked dirty to him, He made the mental note to change that. "Spot, are you sure?" Race asked, tilting his head adorably to the side. "You don't have to do this."

Spot laughed, petting Race's hair back as he pressed a kiss to his forehead; if anything, _he _should have been saying that to Race. "Hey, I want to. It's only fair; You're giving me your first time and now I'm able to give you one of _my _firsts. We can do it later tonight or even in _another _five months. Whenever you're ready. I'm willing to wait for you, Race. I...I love you."

The smile that lit up Race's face was worth a few moments of vulnerability. So worth it. "I never want you to stop saying that," Race said, bringing Spot in close.

"Good, because I plan on saying it for a while," and the gap between the two closed.

Hands roamed, lips clashed, legs tangled, and Spot was in heaven. He moaned, loudly, as Race began kissing down his neck and then there were _teeth. _Race tucked his thumbs into Spot's jeans and laid his palms on his hips, brushing bare skin and making him shiver.

It was as it Race just _knew _where to touch, which dip would elicit a response, when to flick out his tongue, how much pressure to apply when he bit tiny love marks into Spot's skin. Unable to form any words, he just nodded vigorously. He cried out loudly _again _as that _sweet, wet heat_ engulfed his right nipple.

"Quiet, sweetheart," Race quipped, pulling back and flashing Spot a shit-eating grin. "Wouldn't wanna get caught, do we?"

Spot was too busy panting to reply. Race had _never _been this confident and it turned out he was _really fucking_ into it. His moans grew louder and he didn't know where to put his hands; seeming to know what was on his mind, Race took Spot's hands and put them on his thighs.

"_Fuck, Race," _Spot moaned, quickly grasping Race's thighs, gripping him hard enough to leave bruises. Their jeans were still on, but the both of them were burning up. He longed to strip them both of their clothing, but Spot didn't want any boundaries to be pushed. He wanted Race to have a memorable first time, not a painful one. He would go slow, so he made sure to keep away from his boyfriend's inner thighs, instead only running his hands up and down the fabric.

At the sensation, Race moaned, _actually moaned, _and the sound went straight to Spot's dick. With an audible _pop,_ he pulled back and moved forward to capture Spot's lip in a kiss that was more tongue and teeth than a kiss.

Despite the intesity of the kiss, Race's motions on Spot's chest and arms were slow, deliberate. He knew why; the scars on his abdomen were still there. He was no longer self conscious of the scar tissue that covered a good portion of his abdomen, but that didn't mean both boys felt guilt whenever the scars came up in any situation.

Before Spot could ask if he was ok, Race's grip on his hips tightened. "I think it's time to lose our jeans, don't you?"

They needed to talk about it, Spot _wanted _to talk about it, but he knew when to drop a subject.

And the new prospect was too good for him to pass up

Spot looked at Race, a silent question in his eyes waiting to be answered; one of his own faults was that he wasn't very verbal during sex, or at least, he hadnt been in the past. The only words spoken were orders and the initial verbal consent, which he would skip if he wasn't the one to initiate. Everyone at the various clubs he went to knew he was good for a quick fuck at any time and only had to lead him to back rooms.

Thinking on it, he had never been with someone as inexperienced as Race since he was... 15? And he really didn't know what to do. He knew what _he _liked, but he would have to take his time to figure out what _Race _liked.

Before he was able to actually ask, Race pressed a soft "_yes," _into his skin, leading Spot's hands to his jeans. "_Please."_

Spot shivered in anticipation and fear, deciding there was no time like the present: "Race, if there is _any _time you want to stop, and I mean _any, _just say so. I won't be mad and you don't need to be embarrassed." A smile played on his lips, remembering the movie they had been watching not even half an hour before. "Just say 'blue' and I'll stop."

"What? What does blue mean?"

"It's my safe word, Race."

That wasnt true, he had never _had _a safe word, had never been allowed by previous partners to use one, but this was something he wanted to establish. To show Race he was in this for the long haul.

"Oh... ok."

Race's acceptance and nonchalance made Spot smile even more, and he pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. "I'm gonna have to make sure you're comfortable, ok?" He grabbed a pillow from his right and in a show of strength, lifted Race by the hips to put it under him.

"_Jesus Christ," _Race gasped at Spot, eyes wide. Spot just winked at him before turning back to the task at hand. Just to be the tease he was, his thumb grazed the tip of his hips as he reached for Race's zipper. He moaned into the kiss, spurring Spot on as he slowly unzipped him, needy sighs escaping Race's lips. "You ready?"

"Y-yeah."

Leaning back, Spot got on his knees to straddle Race as he slowly dragged the boy's jeans down his legs. His angel was a glorious sight; back arching off the bed with a moan that sounded straight out of a porno, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, a look of pure lust on his face.

Spot could have come right then and there.

While his thumbs pulled his jeans and boxers down, the rest of his fingers trailed, skimming all the new skin he had never been able to explore before. "S-Spot!" Race cried out as his dick sprung out, fully erect and _beautiful._

He never before had thought of someone's cock as beautiful, the word big had definitely been thrown around, but that was the only word Spot could use. It wasn't the biggest he had ever seen but he had a nice length on him, and it was kinda wonky in an affectionate way, but it was perfect because it was _Race._

_"Holy shit," _Spot breathed out, unable to take his eyes off the beautiful angel under him. "_Jamas a visto alguen tan hermoso."_

The Spanish was unintentional, but not unwanted; Both boys loved to hear the other speak in their native tongue, loved to reduce the other to a whimpering mess of Spanish or Italian.

He _knew _that his accent and quicker words had an affect on Race, but now he _saw _his dick twitch at the sound, hips bucking up slightly. And that was the damn prettiest sight he'd ever seen.

"Y-You can't _do _that!" Race cried out, eyes widening at his volume. He quickly quieted down to a stage whisper. "That's not _fair!" _He whined, a desperate look in his eyes.

Instead of answering, Spot sent him a dangerous smile. He maintained direct eye contact as he placed a kiss on his lower thigh, winking as the boy's breathing audibly quickened. "S-Spot, wait!"

_Jesus fuck, already?_

The thought crossed Spot's mind before he was able to stop it, and the wave of shame alone was enough to get him off Race. "Did I do something?" Was the first thing out of Spot's mouth and he didn't want to think about how his voice shook.

"No, _god no, you're perfect," _Race groaned out, covering his face in an attempt to cover the profound blush on him. "I just..." Taking a deep breath, Race looked to the ceiling. "I'm loud. _Really _loud. _Embarrassingly _loud. Imagine how loud I'm going to be when I'm with the hottest guy in school! Everyone's downstairs and I do _not _want anyone walking in on us."

Spot exhaled a breath he hadn't been aware he was even holding. He didn't even stop to realize that Race's family was downstairs and the thought of an angry Jack Kelly walking in wasn't a nice one.

"Oh, I, uh, hadn't thought of that."

"Yeah, I didn't either," Race said. "Just...let me do something before we continue, ok?"

Spot nodded. "Maybe I should lock your door."

"Yeah that's a good idea," Race nodded, eyes wide as the same thought of an angry Jack hit him too.

Race, now wearing only the hoodie that barely covered his ass, got out from underneath him and reached over to where his phone lay charging while Spot got off the bed, hissing as his jeans brushed against his erection. He made his way over to Race's door, locking it and slightly pushing it inwards to make sure it wouldn't budge. When he turned back, Spot got a view of Race's ass and had to stifle the moan that came from deep within him.

_Jesús Christo, how did I get so lucky?_

He watched as Race opened up the spotify app, scrolling through various playlists in his library before landing on one. Clicking "shuffle" Spot faintly heard a tune he couldn't quite place, and then Race hit the bluetooth button. Spot jumped as the same tune was amplified x 20 but calmed when he realized what Race was doing.

Back before Race and Spot even became friends, Kelly would invite the team over for pizza after practice, begrudgingly inviting Spot even though the pair hated each other's guts. Half-way through whatever movie was playing, loud music would resonate throughout the house and Jack's head would spring up immediately.

"_What's that?" _Spot would ask, confused at Jack's concerned look.

"_My little brother," _he would say, so concerned that he didn't even glare at Spot. "_He only plays music when he's upset, to let us know not to bother him. I'll...I'll check up on him later."_

At the time, neither knew that "upset" was actually anxiety, but even now, Race would still play music to get away from people.

Which meant the two wouldn't be bothered.

Spot wasn't an exhibitionist in any way (he thought) but there was a bit of excitement in knowing that they were going to do this with all of Race's family downstairs.

He'd explore that little part of himself later.

Looking back, he saw the album cover of a black and white group from the 50s, the title _Teenager in Love_ right under it on the tv screen. Then he saw the playlist name:

_Spotty 😜😘🍆_

"You...You made a playlist? For me?"

He was still staring at the tv so he couldn't see Race's face, but he could just tell the boy was smiling. "Yeah. It's a lot of songs that remind me of you. I was gonna show you later, but no time like the present, right?"

A grin broke out on Spot's face, ear to ear and hurting his face slightly. It was such a quirky gesture and it was so _Race_. "I love it." He turned around and saw his boyfriend perk up upon seeing his smile. He never did smile often. "I love _you."_

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing you say that," Race grinned, putting his phone down and crawling back onto the bed.

"I already told you: I'm not going to stop."

It was as if they hadn't stopped, their kiss just as sweet as before. Race licked into his mouth, feeling into him and moaning all the while. It was getting hot, way too hot, and Spot had had enough. He pulled back, making his way for his jeans, fully prepared to give Race the strip tease of his life.

Race had a different idea.

He had never seen Race move so fast, lithe fingers quickly undoing his zipper and unbuttoning him. Looking up to meet Spot's eyes, Race dragged the jeans down, stopping when Spot hissed as the jeans dropped to his thighs. Spot helped him remove the offending article, throwing them behind his head and cringing as they hit the door with a loud _slam!_

The two shared a look of fear and nervous for a moment before laughing at the absurdity of it all, grinning like idiots.

"Should we wory about that?"

"Not for a second."

\----

_**Each time we have a quarrel, it almost breaks my heart**_ **,**

"B-Bottom drawer!" Race laughed out, back arching as Spot's lips pressed near his chin.

Spot looked up at him, smile on his face since discovering his boyfriend had an _adorable _laugh and a very ticklish body, raising an eyebrow.

"Condoms. Lube. Bottom drawer."

Spot nodded, glad to know that were on the same page. Leaving a kiss on that damn well chiseled jawline, smiling at the breathless giggle he received, Spot reached over to where the bedside drawer was.

Race turned over and the two were soon lying on their stomachs, rummaging through Race's possessions.

"You still have this?!" Spot laughed, holding up a black face mask he hadn't seen since freshman year.

"Excuse you, Masquerade was my favorite number from that show and you know it!"

"I can't believe you stole your costume."

The two laughed, continuing to pull out random shit that Race had accumulated over the years. An old program for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, ticket stubs for the Homecoming game their junior year, photos of their friendgroup the first day of freshman year. At the bottom of the drawer, sure enough, was a pack of Trojan condoms next to a few tubes of lube. How he had snuck that into the house, Spot didn't know, but he was grateful he had.

Just to be a little shit, Spot picked up the Trojans, pretending to eye them. "You sure these gonna fit?"

"Don't flatter yourself, asshole."

Laughing, he reached for the lube.

_Strawberry. Lemon. Vanilla._

Spot wasn't particularly a fan of flavored lube, but beggars couldn't be choosers. There was _no_ way they weren't using lube.

Popping off the cap, he squeezed out a small dollop of the strawberry onto his finger. Raising it to his nose, he inhaled the scent, humming in appreciation.

"Here, let me."

Without thinking, he moved his finger under Race's nose.

He should have known better.

Instead of smelling it, Race brought Spot's finger into his mouth, closing his eyes as he swirled his tongue around it. It felt as if all the blood ran down his body as he laid there, watching in stunned silence as his boyfriend sucked on his finger. Pulling off with an audible pop, Race brazenly pressed his lips with Spot's, easily parting them and slipped his tongue inside.

Suddenly all that he could feel was _Race._

Race's tongue in his mouth, his hand on the small of Spot's back, the heavy taste of artificial strawberry flooding his senses.

All too quickly, Race pulled away, a look of innocence on his face as if he hadn't just done one of the hottest things Spot had ever seen.

"I like it," Race said, smiling.

It took Spot a few moments to respond, his mind was so frazzled.

"I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life."

Racetrack just laughed.

_ **Cause I'm so afraid that we will have to part,** _

"_Fuck_," Race moaned as Spot got a bit braver, laying the boy back down. There was a layer of sweat over both boys, but Race more so. Licking a stripe down the side of his neck, Race placed a hand over his mouth when Spot reached the sensitive spot behind his ear.

Spot frowned against the skin, pulling back. He carefully pryed Race's hand away. "Babe, its ok to make noises," he reassured, interlocking their fingers and laying a kiss on his knuckles. "Helps me find out what you like."

Race took in a shaky breath, with a blush on his face. He could understand the hesitation, his first few times he avoided making any noise whatsoever, but he genuinely wanted to find what Race liked and what he didn't. Race seemed to understand that because he nodded at him.

"Good," Spot smiled. "Because I want to learn _everything _you like, babydoll."

"And what about what _you _like_, _Spotty?"

At his confused face, Race's laugh became mischievous and his free hand landed on Spot's hip. "Remember our game of truth or dare last year, Spot?"

He did. Oh _God _he did. Sure, games of truth or dare weren't uncommon within their friend group, but one in particular had become infamous.

It had been a Saturday, and their entire friend group decided to raid their local McDonalds and stay there well past midnight, laughing together like total idiots.

A lot was said that night after their friend Romeo suggested they play Truth or Dare. A _lot. _Spot was far too hysteric to remember much, other than learning half his friends were bottoms, but from the look Race was giving him, _he _remembered. Spot couldn't help but feel they were veering into dangerous territory.

"I's learned a lot about you," Race grinned. "_Daddy."_

A jolt of electricity ran through his body at the word, and he gasped in a stuttering breath.

Well fuck, there was no point in denying it: Spot Conlon had a daddy kink the size of Brooklyn. It was something he had first discovered around the same time he found out he liked dick and he hadn't shyed away from it. He had no idea why, but getting called that by any man just _did _something to him.

And hearing _Race _say it did something else entirely.

He took in a choked breath, not missing the look of lust and amusment on his boyfriend's face.

"Y-You don't have to call me that," he got out, willing his brain to _slow down _but Race only hummed.

"I know," he said, shit-eating grin widening as his grip on Spot's hip tightened, bringing him closer. "But I really wanted to."

_ **Each night I ask the stars up above,** _

Race whined as Spot nipped at the tender skin of his thigh, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head.

"You ready?"

All Race could produce was "_Hnnngh_," nodding his head viciously, gripping Spot's hair like it was his life line.

He took that as a yes. 

Placing his hands on Race's thighs, Spot drew Race's cock into his mouth. 

Spot was suddenly glad they had turned the music up all the way; the way Race was yanking on his hair, there was no way he'd be able to keep quiet. Race himself let out a string of Italian curses under his breath.  
  
He swirled his tongue around the tip, looking up to meet his boyfriend's gaze. Spot could have come right there, untouched, just from seeing the look on Race's face. His lips were swollen, hair a tousled mess, covered in sweat, his hoodie still on, faint teeth marks littered all over his neck and legs. 

It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

"_Porca troia, _you're fucking incredible," Race keened, letting go of his hair and raising himself on his elbows to watch. Spot couldn't help but wink at the boy, beginning to jerk him off with his other hand.  
  
"_Sei stupenda, dolce, incredibile," _Race babbled, and Spot moaned upon hearing it, pushing his lips past the tip. He realized Race didn't know that any noise Spot would make would essentially vibrate around his cock because he gasped, eyes nearly popping out of his head.

"Oh _fuck, _I'm never speaking English again," he panted, and Spot could only pray he was being serious. "_A proposito, stai andando alla grande."_

Spot realized what Race was doing and decided to oblige him: he began moaning like the whore he was. (Though he wasn't going to ask it of Race, not tonight, he absolutely did _not_ mind being degraded during sex.)

A strangled noise came out of Race that had Spot just dying to hear it again. He dropped his hand, taking in Race's whine at the loss of contact, and gripped his thighs as to take him in deeper.

After what seemed like hours, though it couldn't have been more than a minute or two, Spot took him in even deeper. He took him inch by inch, wrapping his hands around Race's legs to bring him in closer until his nose was buried in his pubes.

"_Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck--" _Race sobbed, fucking into Spot's mouth a bit. He felt a little bit of selfish joy that he was Race's first blowjob, and that thought made him prouder than he expected.

When Race stopped, probably thinking Spot couldn't take it, Spot raised a hand to slap the boy's ass. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get him moving.

"Do you _want_ me to f-fuck your mouth?"

Race's voice was nearly an octave higher than usual, stutter and accent prominent, and Spot thought it was incredible. He could listen to hear Race speak like that for the rest of his life and never once complain.

In place of pulling off and replying, Spot looked up at him, batted his lashes innocently enough, and hummed around the length in his mouth. Just like that, any trepidation was gone.

With a guttural groan, Race let himself go, hitting the back of Spot's throat with every thrust. Spot _loved _it. He had learned years ago that his gag reflex was next to non-existent, and that blow jobs, giving _or _receiving, were a favorite pastime of his.

_"__Shit_._" _Spot began pulling back in order to slam forward in time with Race's thrusts. His legs were trembling so much that Spot genuinely believed if they weren't on a bed, he'd collapse. Race was so far down his throat he had to remind himself to breathe through his nose. Spot kept sucking and licking and humming, his hands cupping Race's balls.  
  
"Fuck, I-I'm gonna--" was the only warning Spot got before the taste of cum landed on his tongue.

Spot had been a proud premium member of the 'good-boys-swallow' club for years, and he kept to it. Loving every bit of the musky taste that was now overtaking his senses, he swallowed as much of Race's load as he could, even if he felt some drip onto his chin.

He envisioned what Race was seeing; him down on his stomach, cum running down his lips and probably his chest, hair sticking up everywhere, blown up pupils, bruised lips. He hoped Race at least liked the view.  
  
Though he could have stayed in between Race's legs til the end of the time, Spot pulled off, only gagging a little as he found himself able to fully breathe again.

Not that he _was._

Spot was nearly heaving, and Race wasn't much better off.

"Holy _fuck," _Race whispered, obviously not meaning for Spot to overhear him. "We just did that."

Spot coughed, covering up whatever mangled sound escaped him at the words. "Yeah, we did," he ventured, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Great," Race said, still looking up at the ceiling and not at Spot. "Now I'll never be able to go back to masturbating, you fucking _dick_."

There was a moment of complete and utter silence before the two began to laugh and Race pulled him up to lay beside him. The two boys laid together, side by side, trying to regain their breathing  
  
They finally did after a few moments, and Spot wiped at his face, licking Race's cum off his fingers.

"Enjoying yourself there, big guy?"

"Shut up," Spot replied, voice gruffer than usual as he let Race laugh. He loved that laugh. It wasn't Race's usual laugh, as loud and as boisterous as the boy himself, but a quiet huff that rarely came out. Spot had only heard it few times before.

Spot continued to clean himself off but felt a finger on his jaw, turning his head. Turning to face Race, the boy was already there.

Coming up to cup Race's face, he raised himself off the bed and pushed the boy into the mattress as he pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, grabbing at his upper thigh In record time, Spot felt a familiar weight press against his leg.

  
  
_Well hello there._

_"Fuck," _Race whined, and Spot got the feeling his voice was higher on purpose, to stroke his ego. "K-Kiss me? I want to taste myself, Daddy."

The moan that escaped him was quite possibly the loudest of the night. Sure, he had slept with people who wanted to taste their own release, but never had someone wanted to kiss him to do so. The idea of Race tasting himself on Spot's tongue was the hottest thing his mind could conjure in that moment. "Whatever you want, baby boy."

Spot's loudness (and horniness) only increased when Race's tongue delved into his mouth. The second Race's tongue grazed his own, the two went nearly insane. In mere seconds, the kiss became more open mouthed, dirtier, sloppier. It was as if they were each other's oxygen and both boys were drowning.

No. He took that back. It felt as if they were flying, and Race was the only thing that was grounding him enough to not completely float away.

_ **Why must I be a teenager in love?** _

Race moaned as Spot nipped at his neck, hands caressing his abdomen under the hoodie he still hadn't taken off. Race wasn't built like him (Race liked to refer to Spot as a "_beefcake_", which was accurate_) _but years of track and dance had left him lean and muscular in his own way.

"Spot?

He didn't look up, only continued to travel up and down the boy's neck. "Hmm?"

"...is it gonna hurt?"

At that, Spot _did _stop. Pushing himself off, he looked down at at Race. "What?" He asked gently, watching as Race struggled for words.

"You know, the uh, well...penetration...part."

_Oh. Right. That._

If he was being honest, there was nothing Spot wanted more than to spread his legs for the beautiful boy currently underneath him, but never once did the idea of fucking _Race_ cross his mind.

For all his dirty jokes and wicked smirks, that may or may not always turn Spot on to no avail, he knew Race was reserved when it came to the actual _act_ of sex.

"Race," Spot said, gently but firmly lifting his chin so their eyes could meet. "I wasn't even thinking about doing that tonight. I wasn't planning on doing anything that you aren't comfortable with, Racer."

Race stilled for a moment, biting his lower lip and it looked like he was coming to a decision, a look of fierce determination in his eyes. He had seen that look before: it was the look he had right before pulling off the hardest move in his dance recitals, leaving all other track kids in the dust at meets, and that one time he had scaled a McDonald's sign just to get a photo on top of the arch.

"Spot, I want to."

Now he was _sure _that time stood still for a moment, looking down at his boyfriend. He had to take in a deep breath before he could respond.

"Race, you have to be sure. I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't, babe! I swear, I'll say blue if it's too much."

"I have to hear you say it."

It took a second for the lightbulb to go off but when it did, Race smiled, placing a hand on his forearm.

"Spot--" He started, then stopped, clearly debating something in his mind before continuing. "_Sean_ Conlon, I _enthusiastically_ consent to having butt sex. With you. Right here. Preferably right now, but I mean--"

Spot laughed. He was nervous as hell, anyone could have noticed, so just to hear Race cracking stupid jokes like he usually did set him at ease. Spot was just so fucking grateful for his boyfriend's personality. Race grinned, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Now," he whispered into Spot's ear. That alone sent shivers down his spine, but he let out a low moan when he felt Race grab his hips. "_Please_ get on with it."

_ **One day I feel so happy, next day I feel so sad** _

Spot, everyone could agree, was a scary guy. Even though he was no where near 6 feet, he had the uncanny ability to make anyone feel smaller. That had won him and his team several trophies and awards on the football field, intimidating any and all competition. 

He should have known Racetrack Higgins was the exception. 

Spot fixed Race with a look that had most of his opponents running, but damn if Race wasn't the most stubborn bastard Spot had ever met.

"Race."

"Spot." He challenged, eyebrow raised.

"Babe, it's easier to lay on your stomach--"

"I don't care," Race firmly interrupted, voice breathy and almost strained. "I want to see your face. Please?"

Spot hesitated, he truly wanted his love to be comfortable, but in that moment Race whined, reaching in between them, bringing his hand to his own dick. He groaned, looking Spot directly in the eyes as he began to move up and down his length. "_Please_."

Well, _fuck_.

Usually in their arguments, which were never truly arguments, all Race had to do was smile and kiss him and he'd lose almost all free will.

Now? He had none whatsoever.

The sight of Race touching himself under him was a sight that Spot would never forget, not that he would ever want to. He moaned out a quick "fuck, alright, yes," before he ducked his head to worship his boyfriend properly.

** _I guess I'll learn to take the good with the bad _ **

He tapped a single finger on Race's now bare chest, paying little attention to the hoodie thrown to the foot of the bed. "May I?"

At Race's quick nod, he leaned down to playfully nip at his pale skin, not going any lower than he thought was ok. He did flick his boyfriend's nipple, but it was more of an accident than anything else. He noticed a bunch of small white dots littered over his collarbone and couldn't help but ask.

"What...what are all these _dots_?"

Race scrunched up his face, which was absolutely adorable, and cocked his head. "Huh? Oh! Oh, I um. Well, they're scab marks. I always scratched at bug bites as a kid and well...y'know." He trailed off, blushing red as if embarrassed by the dots.

Spot made it a point to lay a kiss to every one he could find.

He saw multiple on Race's abdomen and tapped on his abs. "May I?"

Another nod; his head ducked lower, hands resting high on his waist. Race laughed loudly when he got close to his belly button, and he playfully bit him.

"Watch yourself," Race cheerfully chastised him, smacking him on the shoulder but his voice had taken on a more ragged tone.

Spot laughed, tapping on his boyfriend's thigh. "May I?"

A nod.

He continued downwards, paying close attention to Race's breathing and the sounds he was making. Here, he had to be careful; he wanted Race to feel as ready as possible before doing something he could easily regret.

The majority of sounds coming from him were small moans, whines, and laughter. It was all music to Spot's ears. Race winced, though, when Spot grazed his thigh.

"Sorry," he winced. "Rehearsal."

Reassuring him it was ok, he knew Race was almost killing himself to get his choreography down for the Spring Musical, Spot was conscious to avoid the bruise there, instead focusing on Race's inner thighs.

As Spot pressed a line of kisses on the inside of his thighs, Race's hand gripped onto his shoulder. Thinking it was him signalling him to stop, Spot backed up only to get shoved back down.

"N-No! You're amazing, I just, _God, _needed to grab onto something."

A wicked thought crossed his mind, cocky grin on his face. "Well, we can't have that, can we?"

He took Race's hand and led them to the top of his hair, sighing blissfully as Race got the message. With his fingers firmly pulling on Spot's hair, he looked up at his boyfriend.

"Can I continue?"

Race moaned, letting his head fall back before meeting Spot's gaze again. "God, you're fucking incredible."

Spot laughed. "There's nothing better than consent, _vida mia._"

  
**_Cause each night I ask the stars up above,_**

Race gasped against Spot's mouth as he worked his lubed index finger into the younger boy's body, going slow to let his boyfriend adjust. Race gripped Spot's shoulder as he nodded moments later, breathing heavily as he carefully added a second finger up to his knuckle.

"Holy fuck," Race whispered, watching in near fascination as Spot prepped him. His head fell back onto his pillow, a moan coming out of his lips. "_F__uck!"_

"Too much?" Spot slowed, thinking it _was_ too much, but Race only pushed back onto his fingers with a look of pleasure on his face.

"Fuck, no," he said, grinning up at the ceiling. "Feels fucking incredible." He moaned at the sensation and Spot felt himself getting hotter by the second.

"_Mierda,_" Spot cursed, meeting Race's glazed eyes. He suddenly remembered that Race had never had someone purposely talk dirty to him and god damn it if that was going to be true for another second.

"You look so fucking good like this baby, pushing your ass out for me," he mused, his free hand caressing Race. He whined, and Spot laughed, pressing a kiss to his hip. "You're a fucking wet dream, baby boy. So _fucking good."_

"Holy shit," Race said, breaths shallow and rapid. "Holy _shit._"

"That feel good? I want it to feel good for you sweetheart, you're doing so well _vida mia_."

Race whined at the complete overuse of pet names. He let out a yelp when Spot's hand grazed his hip bone, a spot (no pun intended) he had discovered was incredibly sensitive.

"Bastard," Race groaned out, a slight laugh in his voice. "_Sai come divento quando mi tocchi lì."_

Spot didn't understand a single word his boyfriend was saying, but the Italian turned him on nonetheless.

"May I?"

"_Please!"_

Spot chuckled under his breath at Race's eagerness, and added a third finger, only then beginning to truly stretch him in earnest. Race hissed at the feeling, and Spot slowed again.

"Blue?"

"Yeah," he confessed, gritting his teeth. "J-Just give me a second."

Nodding, he stopped, pressing kisses to the boy's abdomen before Race told him to _please keep fucking going._

Orders were more his thing, but damn if Race bossing him around with _that _voice didn't do something to him.

"As you wish," he replied, continuing to push his fingers into his boyfriend.

"If you quote The Princess Bride while we fuck, I will _murder you!"_

**_Why must I be a teenager in love_** **?**

"_Fuck," _Spot hissed as Race hooked his legs around his waist, erection pressing into Spot's abdomen. Those long long legs were hugging him close as the shorter boy slowly pushed his fingers into him. And _fuck _did Race feel good, so fucking tight and _warm._

"Holy _shit," _Race breathed out, hands gripping onto Spot's hair. "You feel so fucking good."

Race's hand landed on his hips, digging his blunt nails in. An involuntary groan left Spot at the sensation, unconsciously pushing his fingers into him. 

"Oh _fuck_, d-do that again, Spotty."

At the words, he started an extremely slow pace, pushing upwards into that warm heat, and both boys moaned. It felt _so good, _and Spot had to seriously focus on not going too hard too quick. No matter what they both wanted, there were limits, physical and moral, that Spot wouldn't cross.

A second later, Spot yelped as Race took it on himself to go faster. Race crashed their lips together, making him moan in surprise before gladly reciprocating. That was new. Used to be, any sort of romantic intimacy wasn't usually well received. Spot never kissed his past hookups, but damn it, Race was good at it like he was at every other fucking thing.

As Spot licked into Race's mouth, the intoxicating taste of something that was just inexplicably _Race _flooded his senses_,_ Race began to slowly roll his hips and Spot was _lost._

"Babe, wait, you gotta _slow down," _Spot panted. He didn't _want _to slow down but he knew he needed to. It would cause a shit ton of pain if they went as quickly as Race wanted to, and Spot couldn't do that to him. Race either didn't hear him or didn't listen, because he didn't stop, kept fucking himself on Spot's fingers. "Baby, wait." He still kept moving, and Spot felt panic rise in his chest.

"Baby, _please._"

It was the plea that got Race. He could tell. The only sounds in the room were the fan above them, the loud music emmiting from the tv, and their heavy breathing.

"Oh fuck. I'm sorry," Race said, a look of guilt on his face that nearly broke Spot. "I'm sorry."

"No, baby boy, you didn't do anything wrong," he said, praying his vocal break wasn't as noticeable as he thought it was. "I just don't want to see you hurt. I-I _can't _see you hurt, Racer, I-I can't."

The memory of his sophomore year hit him like a train, and he felt a sort of panic at the thought. The same panic he felt when he was trying to just get _her off of him--_

_"_Someone..." Race said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Someone hurt _you._..didnt they?"

He didn't say anything. And the silence was the only thing Race needed to hear for him to get his answer.

_Fuck._

Race knew everything about him, everything, except for that. He never wanted him to find out, never wanted him to pity him or think him weak.

"Sean, I am _so _sorry. I-I didn't know, I'm _so sorry--_"

"It happened years ago, Race," he whispered. "You don't need to feel sorry."

"We can stop. If I had known, I would _never have--"_

"Anthony _no_." He rarely took a hard tone with his boyfriend, but this was one conversation he couldn't have Race disputing. He held Race's face, pressing his palms to his cheeks.

"You are _not _her. She hurt me and took advantage of me, and you are _nothing _like her. Don't even _think _that. You would never hurt me, I know you wouldn't.

"If you want to stop, we will and I won't hold anything against you. But please don't think we _have_ to stop."

For a moment, neither spoke. Spot wondered if he had just scared Race off for good.

"I still want this, Spot. I still want _you._"

Spot hadn't even realized a tear was rolling down his face until Race wiped it away, bringing him down into the sweetest kiss they had shared that night.

_"¿Qué he hecho para merecer un obsequio tan hermoso?__" _Spot murmured, and Race just laughed, emotions slightly slurring his words.

"I wonder the same thing, Spotty."

  
_**I cried a tear for nobody but you,**_

"Ready?"

Race looked at him, desperation and excitement mixed in with a tinge of fear. "Y-yeah. Yes. I'm ready." 

Spot looked at him one last to make sure he really was ready, before taking his length in his hand and leading it to Race's hole. The boy hissed and tensed around the intrusion, and Spot led his other hand to caress the boy's hip, trying to relax him. He was barely in, the tip not even fully in him, but slowed nonetheless. Race's eyes were clamped shut, nails digging too hard into Spot, when he said, "K-Keep going." He continued to press into him, stopping every few seconds. His cock was the only thing not small about him, and both boys knew that. Race took him inch by inch and Spot was glad to hear his grunts of pain turn into pleasure. 

Race's moans and whines were lost as he kissed his boyfriend, arms wrapped around one another as Spot's hips laid flush with Race's. He had gone slowly, slower than before, and had kissed Race's body the entire way through. Spot didn't know if Race's moans had been caused by the cock in his ass, the lips on his body, or the words of love and encouragement being said to him. Maybe all three.

Spot stayed still for a moment, both boys breathing heavily and needing a second to get adjusted to feeling so _full. _

  
_"_Can I move?" Spot asked, watching as Race nodded before beginning to slowly rock into him.

"Jesus _fuck," _Race said, laughing a bit as Spot kissed and nipped at his collar bone. "Why the fuck didn't we do this earlier?"

"Consent, for one," Spot replied in between kisses, not once stopping what he was doing. "And neither of us were ready to suggest it."

"C-Can't see why. This is _the _best thing ever."

"You got me there, _cielo,_" he chuckled, finally leaving his collar bone and easily finding Race's lips. As they lazily kissed, Spot rocked into him more.

A low whine came from Race and Spot could _feel _Race go pliant, relaxing into him. Trusting him. His hand came up to cup Race's face, fingers grazing his jawline.

Race broke off into a torn sob when Spot's slow thrusts found that spot, no pun intended, gripping Spot's hair so hard he knew it would be aching throughout the week.

Not that he minded.

"Oh _fuck," _Race moaned, arching his back, trying to get them even closer even though there wasn't even an inch of room between them. "Oh fuck, right there!"

"Is that okay?" Spot asked, stopping for a moment, but Race only nodded rapidly.

"You can go faster, Spotty," Race stuttered out, but he could see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he was really _asking _him to. Everything in his body was _screaming _at him to do it, to take Race's body as he had others, but he fought those thoughts as hard as he could. Race wasn't like the others. Spot _loved _Race and he'd be damned if he caused him pain.

"What's the safeword, Race?"

Race scoffed at him, even though it came out breathless with little mirth behind it. At Spot's look, he caved. "Blue, it's blue."

With that, Spot grabbed onto Race's pretty little hips and did what he asked. He started slowly, gauging everything by Race's breathing and the sounds he was making. Soon enough, he had set up a pace that had Race bunching up the bed sheets in his hands.

"Holy _fuck__!"_

_Holy fuck _was also running through Spot's mind. Perhaps it was because he hadn't sex for half year, maybe it was because it was with Race, but he felt as if this experience was entirely new. With other hookups, it was a race to the finish line. Who could be more dominant (Spot), who would come first (never Spot), who was the roughest (Spot) and everything Spot didn't want right now.

With Race, he wanted to take in every moment. Every sound, every emotion, every movement, every look. He didn't want any of it to end. He wanted to stay in those moments.

Spot was brought back to reality as Race began rolling his hips, the loud slapping of skin on skin almost deafening to him.

"Blue?" He asked, pulling back slightly only to have Race yank him back by the hair, essentially slamming him into Race. They both yelled, nearly seeing stars.

"_Shit_, don't stop!" He cried out, moans so loud it was a miracle no one had tried busting down the door.

"Race, do you _want _this--"

"_Consent is so important, but _**_Sean if you don't fuck me right now_**!"

Spot wanted to ask again, but he was sure Race knew what he was asking for. Something told him Race would genuinely lose it if Spot tried to ask him again.

A_y Dios, todo poderoso, please let me be right about this._

Hoping he wasn't wrong on it, Spot made a decision. He pulled out entirely, only waiting the milisecond it took for Race to sob, and thrust all the way in.

**_I_** **_'ll be a lonely one if you should say we're through_**

Race sobbed out a choked "fuck _yes," _as Spot continued to thrust into him. His muscles were aching from the exertion of holding back. He was going rougher than he had even meant to, sure, but that did _not _mean he was going to fuck him like he would anyone else.

"Y-You don't have to hold back, Daddy," he whined, and Spot felt a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach at that word. Was Racetrack trying to _kill_ him?! "I don't want you t-to."

Spot knew that both knew he wasn't going to do that.

"What _do _you want, baby?"

"Fuck me," Race whined, speaking so quickly that Spot almost couldn't decipher his words. "Harder, deeper, faster. Just fuck me like you _mean _it, Spot."

"Race--"

"Sean Patrick Conlon, _per l'amor di Dio_!" He shouted. The use of his full name startled Spot so much that he stopped moving, watching Race grimace at the sudden change of pace.

"Sorry," he said, kind of surprised of how meek his voice sounded. He began to pull out, but Race reached for his shoulder to stop him.

"Nope! We are _having _this conversation, and you are _staying _right there!"

"Racer, my dick is _literally _in your ass right now."

"And it's fucking incredible so you are **_not _**moving."

Racetrack was a _mess, _his voice completely wrecked, but the fire in his eyes was back (which was _so fucking _hot) so Spot knew better than to argue. Instead, he lowered himself onto his elbows, raising an eyebrow as to indicate for Race to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

"Okay," Race said, gasping for breath. "I am extremely turned on right now, you are fucking _huge, _so I need to catch my breath for a second."

Spot nodded (secretly smirking to himself about the _huge _comment) keeping quiet until Race was able to actually form a coherent sentence.

"Spot," Race said. "God _damn _I love you, but I know you are holding back. And you don't _need _to."

He felt like it was an odd thing to say considering he was literally inside of Race, but he let that slide. "Race, I can tell you that I do. You're a _virgin_, babe, and--"

"You've fucked a virgin before."

Spot's mouth snapped shut.

For the first time that night, he was suddenly reminded that before Race was his _boy_friend, he was his _best_ friend. Race was one of the few people that knew his sexual history _extremely _well. All at once, he regretted relating all his woes and triumphs to Race.

"I did not _know _he was a virgin," he argued but he knew it was a dull argument and Race did too. They had still finished even after the boy had confessed, which Spot wasn't entirely proud of. It was all consensual, he had made sure of that, but it still felt wrong to admit having done it.

"You didn't go any easier on him than you did on _any _of your other hookups, Spot. Because he _asked _you to. I know he did because you _told _me!"

How could Spot tell Race that this was an entirely different situation? That this was different because Race was so special to him?

"I regret telling you about that," Spot muttered under his breath.

"Well you did it while drunk. So that's your fault."

Spot couldn't even argue with that.

"Race, I don't wanna hurt you. I'm _sure _I've made that clear."

"And that's why we have a safeword!" Race realized he was yelling, so he took in a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. "Babe. I _know _what I'm asking. And I completely understand why you're reserved, but that is _precisely _why we have a safe word."

Spot hated that Race was right. That _was _why they had a safe word.

"Look, just answer something." He said, bringing his hand to Spot's chest (he could have _sworn _he heard Race go "_woah" _when he did.) "What would you do to me if I were just a hookup?"

_Just a hookup._

The thought of Race just being another face Spot could barely remember through the haze of alcohol and drugs terrified him, chilled him to his very bones.

"You are _so _much more to me than a hookup," Spot whispered. Race almost smiled at the words, a blush warming his face.

"I know. I know, babe, but just humor me? If I were just another pretty boy, because I _am _pretty Spot, who caught your eye and you took back to your apartment, _te he faresti_?"

Biting his lips, Spot thought on it.

It was hard to think what with the playlist still going loud and strong, but he pushed that to the side. What _would _he do? Well, he'd never taken a hookup to his apartment before, never cared enough to do so. So that would be different. He envisioned Race in his kitchen, a glass in his hand. 

"Well I'd get you a drink first off," Spot said, thinking of the bottles of vodka and tequila in his kitchen cabinets. "Sex is better with alcohol." 

"I wouldn't know," Race muttered under his breath. "But I'm liking where this is going." 

"I'd strip you down to nothing," he continued, and he let his hand run down Race's chest. He saw himself taking the glass from Race's hands to place it elsewhere. Seconds later, Race would hop onto the counter and Spot would grab his hips, kissing him as his hands went to unbutton his jeans. "Kiss you senseless, shove you up against the counter and the hallway walls. Lead you to the bedroom, push you down onto the bed and have you watch me strip." 

"Oh God," Race said, nodding vigorously with his eyes closed. "Yup. This is definitely doing it for me. Keep talking." 

He chuckled to himself, and let himself slip into the deeper register of his voice. "You want me to tell you the truth, _mi amor?" _

Race whined, nodding. "Tell me." 

"I'd eat you out like I was fucking starving." 

He said it softly, almost in prayer, and Race let out a strangled moan. "Oh fuck, Spot," he said, voice needy and high again. 

"My tongue, your ass, sounds pretty good to me," he teased, feeling rather than seeing Race relax into him as he dropped to speak into his ear. "Wet. Dripping. Heat. You get the gist." 

"You sound like a b-bad romance novel," Race laughed.

"And yet it's turning you on beyond belief," Spot smirked, not even having to look down to confirm his suspicions. 

"I'd suck you off after," he pressed on, knowing Race was imagining all of this just like Spot was. His voice was going deeper, gruffer with arousal, and if he had known Race would get this turned on he would have started talking ages ago. " 'S a good thing I don't have a gag reflex." 

At Race's hum, he knew the Italian was remembering how Spot had all but begged him to face-fuck him earlier. "A-And then?" 

He didn't even have to answer, he only had to move his hips. 

Race groaned, low in his throat, as Spot once again started a slow rythm. "I wouldn't even start out this slow," he whispered. "I'd start out a lot faster than this, fuck you hard and just listen to you. You make the prettiest noises, baby boy."

"Would you ever degrade me?" 

It came out in a whine but Spot knew he was genuinely asking. He pulled away, brushing the hair out of Race's face. "Do you want me to?" 

"Wouldn't mind," Race gasped as Spot's dick kept grazing his prostate. "Always wondered what it'd be like t-to have you call me a slut." 

Spot had a tentative relationship with that word: on one hand, he wasn't one to degrade his partners but on the other hand, Race said it in near _reverence _and Spot was seeing the word in a whole different light. 

"In that case; yes." 

On the word, Spot deepened his thrusts and felt Race's nails dig into his skin of his back. 

"I'd call you a slut, pull your hair and mark up your neck if you let me," he said, fingers playing with his hair but not yanking. Yet. 

"God, I wish you could leave _so _many hickeys on me," he whined. 

"One day, _mi amor," _He said. Spot felt himself speed up his thrusts, could hear Race's breathing quicken, and he almost stopped himself before remembering that they _both _wanted this. 

"Just tell me when it's too much, ok?" 

"Stop talking," Race cried out, and Spot took that as his cue to kiss the boy senseless. 

_ **Well, if you want to make me cry, that won't be so hard to do.** _

Spot Conlon was going to Hell. That was it. He was going to Hell.

"_La homosexualidad es una enfermedad," _his Abuela had said, clutching her rosary in one hand and 11 year old Spot's arm in the other, trying to get away from the two men on the street corner. As if it were an airborne, contagious disease. "_Cualquier hombre que se acuesta con otro irá al infierno, Sean. Son abominaciones. Siempre recuerda eso_."

If lying with another man was truly a sin, one that would send him to Hell, he'd gladly accept his torment. No matter what he was taught, no matter what he raised to believe, he couldn't imagine _this _was a sin. _This _was pure, _this _was bliss.

Race was _his _Heaven.

Race's moans mixed in with Spot's as they began to fuck in _earnest_, nothing held back between either boy. His hands went to Race's thighs, spreading his legs out more and fucking him deeper. He had never been more glad that his boyfriend was a trained dancer: flexibility was a definite perk.

The groans became more scandalous, the heat in the pit of Spot's stomach now a raging fire. 

"_Fuck, _babe," he said, hips now acting of their own accord. "You're so fucking good to me, baby boy."

Race had lost all coherency at that point, only able to stutter out a string of curses with Spot's name thrown in every other word. With every thrust to his prostate, which was _every _thrust, the boy would moan loudly and unashamed, making Spot's face heat up at the sound. 

He could feel himself getting closer to that edge, but he forced his mind to go somewhere else. _Anywhere _else. Unless Race said otherwise, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. 

Until then, Spot had set the pace, but impatience had always been Race's fatal flaw. He suddenly jerked back onto Spot, breaking the rythm they had going. 

"I know you can fuck me harder," he said breathlessly, rolling his hips quicker and against Spot's thrusts. "I want it."

The thought of all this being too much for someone's first time crossed his mind, but just like he was able to read Race's gamble tells, he was able to read his eyes. They were so blue and so open, Race was never able to hide the truth within them. They were clouded with lust and pleasure, that much was obvious, but beneath that Spot saw sincerity. Race knew what he was asking.

Spot didn't have it in him to argue.

A hand found itself tangled in Race's curls, and he lightly pulled at them as he began to match Race's speed.

Spot felt the roll of pleasure fall over him as it did Race, and he couldn't help the sharp _yank _at the boy's hair. Race's obscene whine at the gesture only made him push into him faster. He yelped when he felt both of Race's hands on his ass, grabbing at him, but he was too far gone for embarrassment to take any place in his mind.

The pace they had going was near brutal, skin stinging where they made contact with one another, but Race took it. Spot couldn't even begin to describe his surprise at the fact that Race was able to just take all of this.

And it turned him on so badly.

"D-Don't stop!" he cried out, throwing his arms around Spot's neck. "I'm_ so _close--"

Spot had never been so glad he was a master of self control, because he would have come at those words alone otherwise. He tugged at Race's hair, exposing his neck.

"W-Wait!" Race exclaimed, and Spot dropped his hand. "Look at me. Spot, I-I want you to look at me. _Please look at me."_

And so he did.

Spot never envisioned his first time with Race would be like this, not at all. He wasn't envisioning roses and candles in a private hotel room and all that, but secretly fucking him (though _ramming _seemed more specific) while his family watched a movie downstairs and blaring music so they wouldn't be heard wasnt exactly it either.

But as he looked into those blue eyes, eyes wide and pupils blown, he didn't care. He didn't when or how he was doing this, it only mattered that Race trusted him, _loved _him, enough to let him do this.

He looked into those eyes and he said the words he'd be longing to say for years.

"I love you."

Race whined, struggling to keep his eyes open as he was on the verge of his orgasm.

"I love you," he repeated, coming up to cup Race's face, thumb grazing his cheek. The sweet movement was a sharp contrast to the even sharper thrusts into the boy's body.

"I love your smile, I-I love your eyes, I love your hair," he admired and he could feel the tears well in his eyes. "I love the way you make me feel like I'm the only person on the planet. I love your stupid puns, I love your passion for dance, I love the way you love everyone even if they don't deserve it. I love you, I love you, I _love you._"

Race sobbed, wiping a tear off of his face. "I I-love you too," he gasped. "I--" Before he could finish his sentence, his eyes rolled to the back of his head before they clamped shut and his nails dug into Spot's shoulder so hard it probably drew blood.

_I love you._

Spot thought the words, but found he couldn't say them. They were lodged in his throat as he watched the boy he loved succumb to his orgasm.

The fire raging in his stomach became too much to bear and Spot let himself look down at Race once more before letting himself go not soon after. The music was too loud, his legs were killing him, his scalp was in so much pain, and it was _perfect._

Everything was _perfect_

_ **And if you should say goodbye, I'll still go on loving you.** _

They found themselves in nearly the same position they had begun the night in, only turned in, and with no layers in between their bodies. Spot ran his fingers through Race's hair, humming a childhood song of his as Race traced circles on his chest.

"You know," Race whispered. "We could have recorded that."

Spot stopped humming.

His eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, not that Race could see it. "For...sentimental reasons?"

"Nope. Porn."

It was said so nonchalantly, as if talking about the weather, that it barely took a milisecond of silence for the two of them to lose it.

"_Porn?!" _Spot asked, trying to keep his shoulders from shaking so hard.

"T-Think about it!" Race cackled, laughing so hard Spot could feel his breath on his chest. "We're both 18, we're both hot, and _I _would not oppose to having that video!"

"I c-can see the title now!" Race continued, in near tears. "'_Hunk pounds virgin twink boyfriend'_!"

Spot had always thought porn titles were the most ridiculous things in the world, so it only made sense that immediately after, Race was able to ramble off multiple titles in a number of seconds.

The idea of recording them having sex was pretty hot, he wouldn't lie, but he wasn't ready nor prepared for the idea of sharing Race with anyone else.

Their moment of laughter was quickly cut off by Spot's phone vibrating on Race's bedside table. Sighing, he detached himself from Race and reached over, turning off the alarm that he had set to ring at 10 every Sunday.

"That's my cue, baby boy," he said, though he wished it wasn't. He wished he didn't have to leave, had to go back to his cold and small apartment.

"Hey..." Race said softly, tenderly grabbing at his wrist. "Stay with me."

"Race..." Spot whispered, finding himself looking into those beautiful eyes that were begging him to stay. "You know I can't."

God he wished he could. He longed for the day the two could just be free as romantic and sappy as they wanted to be, longed for the day that he could just lay down with the boy and damn the consequences.

"Please?" Race pleaded, hand coming up to cup Spot's cheek. "Sneak out in the morning, say you slept over, I don't care, just.. don't leave me."

He knew it was a bad idea, knew what would happen if they were caught. He also knew that looking into those eyes, he didn't care. Nothing else mattered, not his fears, not their reservation, not anyone's opinion, just them.

It barely took him a second to smile softly, really only lifting the corners of his mouth, and reply a soft, "How could I ever leave you, Racer." Putting his phone back on the table, not even caring that it wouldn't be charged in the morning, Spot moved and let himself be tucked into the covers behind Race.

"Thank you," Race said. "For...everything."

Spot didn't feel the need to reply, so he only pressed a kiss to the boy's head, and closed his eyes. Slowly but surely, their breathing evened out, and yet...something was off. There was _something _that was keeping Spot from actually sleeping but he didn't know what.

It took five minutes for Race to get it.

"Spot?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you wanna be the little spoon?"

"...yeah."

_ **Each night I ask the stars up above,** _

That night, Spot slept soundly. He was exhausted, every limb in his body screaming, but as he laid with Racetrack none of that mattered.

Tangled together, bare chests rising and falling in sync, the young couple dreamt of their future and what life would be like when they were older and together. College wasn't that far away and both boys had decided they wanted to attend the same university. Spot had thought about asking Race to move in with him once they had graduated. But that conversation was for another time.

They slept so soundly, neither heard the key turning in Racetrack's door nor the gasp from the intruder. To them, life was calm and peaceful.

To Jack Kelly, hell had just broken loose.

_ **Why must I be a teenager in love?** _

_ **Why must I be a teenager in love? (In love)** _

** _Why must I be a teenager in love? (In love)_ **

** _Why must I be a teenager in love?_ **

**Author's Note:**

> As previously stated, this fic has been in the works for a while and I'm so glad I get to see it shared with the world.
> 
> There are multiple things in this fic that I don't delve into: Race's family, Spot's living situation and scars for example. I guess we'll have to wait for the next installment to tie up those loose ends won't we 😉
> 
> Now, for older readers, don't have unprotected sex unless you and your partner consent and are over the age of 18, ok? And don't use this fic as a guide for sex, P L E A S E. I wrote it a little imperfect and a little too perfect because that's how I wish my first time went, but this really is artistic liberty. Be safe, be consenting, and use protection!
> 
> If anything, please leave a comment. Validate me? Please? If this flops I might actually cry.
> 
> Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this and to be taken on this emotional rollercoaster with me. I'll never be able to fully say how much I appreciate if ❤
> 
> TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Antonio Higgins, estoy tan enamorado de ti, you'll never know - Antonio Higgins, I'm so in love with you, you'll never know
> 
> Tu sei l'unico per me, Sean - You're the only one for me, Sean
> 
> Jamas a visto alguen tan hermoso. - I've never seen someone so beautiful
> 
> Porca troia, you're fucking incredible - Holy shit, you're fucking incredible
> 
> Sei stupenda, dolce, incredibile - You're beautiful, sweet, incredible
> 
> A proposito, stai andando alla grande. - By the way, you're doing a great job
> 
> Mierda - Shit
> 
> Sai come divento quando mi tocchi li - You know how I get when you touch me there
> 
> ¿Qué he hecho para merecer un obsequio tan hermoso? - What have I done to deserve something so beautiful?
> 
> Ay Dios, todo poderoso - Oh God Almighty
> 
> Sean Patrick Conlon, per l'amor di Dio - Sean Patrick Conlon for the love of God
> 
> La homosexualidad es una enfermedad. Cualquier hombre que se acuesta con otro irá al infierno, Sean. Son abominaciones. Siempre recuerda eso - Homosexuality is a disease. Any man who lays with another goes to Hell, Sean. They're abominations. Always remember that.


End file.
